


The Night's End

by AutumnSouls



Series: The World Wandering Potter [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Female Harry Potter, Gen, Master of Death, Master of Death Harry Potter, Mistress of Death - Freeform, Random Encounters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 15:27:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16411088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutumnSouls/pseuds/AutumnSouls
Summary: When heading south, the Night King encounters a woman. She terrifies him.





	The Night's End

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea why I wrote this. But I did and I was planning on deleting it, but I'll upload it anyway. This is a one-shot I wrote after finishing the last episode of the latest season of Game of Thrones. The Night King annoyed me so I wrote this to feel better.
> 
> I might add more chapters with her interacting with other characters and then finally confronting the Night King and testing her strength against him.

The horse stopped, and at this distance, the Night King could see that the figure upon the mount was a woman. It surprised him. He could only see the lower half of her face, due to the black hood she had on, and the features were elegant, and strong, with long, messy black hair framing her almost-aristocratic appearance. 

What struck him more, far more than the fact that she was a lone woman in these wastelands, was her lack of fear. 

There was none of it. 

Even with the bravest of men, no matter how stiff they made their faces to be, he could always detect a bit of fear, or at least uncertainty, in them.

There was nothing of the sort in this strange woman. 

They stared at each other for a few more moments, then she tilted her head in what appeared to be childlike curiosity, and spoke.

“You’re heading down south.” 

Her voice was the same as her facial features: elegant, soft, yet strong all the same. He did not recognize the accent. 

“I’m heading north,” she continued. “May I ask you something?”

He raised his icy eyebrows. 

“Why  _ are  _ you heading south? What’s there to gain, really? Privately, I find the very thought of sitting on some throne all day, every day, to be downright exhausting. Dull, even.”

When he did nothing more than stare at her in slight surprise, which he certainly felt more so than just slightly, she smiled to herself. 

And then she lifted her head higher, allowing him to see her face in its entirely. 

The almost-aristocratic look remained present in the rest of her, and her vibrant green eyes, like green leaves in the prime of summer, looked down upon him with wry amusement, as though he was nothing to her. 

It both angered and unnerved him. 

Still, he did not strike. 

He could have. He could have commanded the entire army he had behind him to attack her now, and surely she could not fight an entire army on her own. He could have formed a spear, made of deadliest ice, and have thrown it at her with such speed that the average man wouldn’t have time to blink.

Yet, he did nothing.

He did nothing as she tightened her cloak around her, nothing as he sensed the magic from her for the first time, nothing as the magic grew in such incredible strength and ferocity as her horse stepped forward, and certainly nothing when instead of guiding her horse away from him, she guided it toward him, pausing next to him for just a moment, as though daring him. 

And in that moment, she spoke, her voice coming out as a whisper, mocking and with a touch of curiosity. 

“You do know, don’t you? You’ll never win. Whether you win your war or not, it doesn’t matter. It always comes down to me to clean up after these sorts of messes... Tonight, you live.” The implication was threatening, but her voice remained easy and smooth. “But only because I allow it.”

Her horse moved again, walking on as though unaffected by the harsh winds of winter. 

As she disappeared into the crowd of his army, the wind carried her last words.

“The next time we meet, Night King, it will be your end.”

For the first time, he shivered. 


End file.
